


London/Berlin

by Xangonne



Category: Call of Cthulhu: Path of Perdition (Web Series), Internet Remix, Rolling with Remix: Masks of Nyarlathotep (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xangonne/pseuds/Xangonne
Summary: “They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.”― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of ParadiseorThe many ways one can beg for help without ever really asking for it.
Relationships: Kit Sullivan & Sunil Pandey, Kit Sullivan/Sunil Pandey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. London

* * *

"Kit? Is that you?"

Sunil had not expected to find himself looking at a man he had not seen since April, when they had parted ways in Chicago. But here they both were: Sunil in the doorway, and Kit already half-way down the steps as if he had decided to flee into the night. Kit stopped mid-step at the sound of Sunil's voice, and there was a pause before he turned back to look towards the threshold where Sunil stood.

Now, more than ever, Kit was aware of exactly what he looked like-- what this looked like. He stood, rooted to the spot, with the scalpel-sharp thoughts of what Sunil must be seeing dancing through his mind. His toes were numb. He couldn't feel his face. In one hand, he clutched the handle of his worn valise, and in the other there was a dog-eared business card with a name and address.

The warm light from inside the house spilled out into the night, catching the large flakes in the air, illuminating them like cinders. The same light cast the ruined side of Kit's face in stark relief. It was enough for Sunil to discern the furrow of Kit's brow, and the distant look in his eyes.

"Kit?" Sunil's voice softened, and he took a cautious step out onto the stoop. Kit didn't move, and for a brief moment Sunil felt more like he was trying to gentle a feral animal instead of reach out to an old friend.

Just like that the moment passed, and just like that Kit was back, standing with that familiar military ease and meeting Sunil's gaze. "Hi Sunil."

Sunil sighed, and his breath puffed out visibly into the air. "What are you doing here?"

Kit gave a little half-shrug in that painfully familiar way of his. "I was, ah, in the neighborhood. Thought I'd drop by. I remembered you mentioned in Chicago that you'd be fine with us visiting you."

Sunil folded his arms tightly across his chest and looked down incredulously at Kit.

"Kit, you could have written."

"I know."

"Kit, you could have wired."

"I know, I didn't think--"

"Kit, it's late."

"I know, I'm sorry--"

"Kit. It's freezing."

"I--"

Sunil had already crossed the distance between the two of them and relieved Kit of his suitcase. He climbed the steps, and looked back down.

"Well don't just stand there, Dr. Sullivan. Come inside already."

Kit wordlessly followed. He hesitated at the threshold and took a shaky breath before stepping inside, into the warmth and the light.

* * *

"Sunil, you're gonna freeze if you go out like that."

"I have a scarf here somewhere, it's just been a while since I've been out, so I can't exactly find it--"

It only took a few moments for Kit to unwind the scarf from around his own neck, and loop it around Sunil's. There was something intimate about the moment-- the gentle tug of setting the knot into place, and someone else's warmth settling in around Sunil's neck and shoulders.

There was a bit of a silence between the two before Kit turned for the door, opened it, and let the cold rush in.

"Oh, Kit. Thank you. I'll be sure to get it back to you."

"Don't worry about it."

* * *

"So, Berlin?"

The snow had come down hard the night before, which meant that the two of them left pristine tracks in it as they followed the line of the pavement. The morning was sharp in a satisfying way, and cold enough to make the tips of Kit's ears numb.

"Yes. Berlin." Kit cast a cautious glance back. "What about it?"

"Well. I guess I never thought you'd be spending so much time in Europe, that's all."

Kit shrugged, but slowed down a fraction to match Sunil's stride as the two of them walked. He was well aware of Berlin's reputation, just as much as he was sure Sunil was aware of it. That knowledge hummed in his chest with all the tension of a plucked string. Even so, despite its reputation, the anonymity that Berlin granted had been a welcome reprieve from everywhere else. In the bustle and brightness of Berlin, anyone could disappear, anyone at all; and there was a certain solace in that. Being in a place where nobody had known the person you once were, and where that didn't matter at all, was a comfort.

But he had chosen to come to London. Where Sunil was.

Kit inclined his head a little, "I'm staying there for professional reasons."

"Right. Of course." There was a little pause before Sunil, thankfully, moved on to a different line of questioning.

* * *

Sunil hadn't realized how profoundly lonely he had been until he wasn't anymore. He still wasn't sure why he extended an open invitation to people he had only met a week or so prior. Maybe he never thought anyone would actually follow through with it. Maybe he knew, on some level, that what happened in America would do nothing but isolate him more than he had ever been before.

He still dreamt, sometimes, about inexplicable things. About writhing grave worms and beetles. About a malevolent hunger that stalked him through his dreams. About tremors in the darkest depths of the earth. He wished, sometimes, that he could let himself forget. That he could choose not to believe everything that had happened to him in New Mexico. Of course, he didn't have that luxury. He was a researcher. He couldn't ignore evidence, even if he desperately wanted to.

Kit had been visiting for a few days before Sunil tentatively brought it up. "Do you think about what happened? Then."

The two of them had gone out for the day to Hyde Park. Ostensibly for tourism reasons, and to show Kit the Crystal Palace; but more so because it was easier somehow to talk while walking.

"From time to time." Kit inclined his head slightly so that he could better see Sunil, who had fallen into the habit of walking on Kit's bad side. "You?"

"From time to time." Sunil kept his focus ahead of them, on the path. They lapsed into an easy and companionable silence as they walked. The mid-day sun was bright to the point of almost being warm.

Kit nodded, with a raspy hum. "Hard to think about, much less talk about. But, if anything, it's comforting to know you're not the only one who went through it all. You're not alone."

"Right." 

The two of them had come to the banks of the Serpentine, and Kit swept the accumulated snow off of a bench before taking a seat to look out over the ice. He left the space to his right unoccupied, so Sunil sat next to him.

"Do you ever have dreams about it?" Sunil idly tossed a pebble out onto the ice, where it skittered across.

Kit leaned back and looked up to the clear, grey sky. "Among other things." He gave a strangled little laugh. "But yeah. I do."

"Me too."

They sat there for a while, alone save for each other, until the sun diminished and the street-lamps flickered to life.

* * *

Even if Dr. Sullivan insisted that it was no trouble at all, Sunil still found himself carefully folding the scarf and slipping it in amongst Kit's belongings the night before his departure. It was a show of hospitality, if anything. A show of making good on a promise, and a show of respect in a way. Kit took care of people, Sunil figured; and in the short time the two had known each other, Sunil had come to the realization that the caring was to a fault.

Perhaps that's why he wasn't altogether too surprised to find a neatly folded scarf on his bed when he got back from the docks. Not surprised, but perhaps just a tad bit irritated. There was a note on the scarf in a familiar, slanting script: "You're welcome in Berlin at any time." 

Fabric couldn't be smug, of course, but he could practically see the line of Kit's crooked grin in the precise, military folds.

Come to think of it, Kit hadn't smiled in America. It hadn't been until Kit showed up in London that Sunil had seen more than the briefest flashes of amusement cross the doctor's face.

* * *

Sunil wore the scarf for the rest of the winter.  
  



	2. Berlin

* * *

"Sunil?"

Kit never expected Sunil to take him up on his offer to visit Berlin. Even after the correspondence the two of them had exchanged in the months following Kit's visit, in which Sunil floated the idea of visiting Germany, Kit still never allowed himself to think that it was a possibility. Even after Sunil had mentioned preparing for a departure in his last letter, Kit still did not allow himself the luxury of believing it was a possibility.

As a result, seeing Sunil Pandey at the door of his tiny Berlin apartment was more than a bit of a surprise. Not an unwelcome one, but still a surprise. In a way, Berlin had always felt like a dream; like a place that existed in a state of limbo. A place where Kit could always exist in a place of isolation. A place where he could stay asleep.

"Oh, good. I managed to find the right address!" It was indeed Sunil, with a familiar scarf looped around his neck, a hesitant smile, and a suitcase in one hand. It was indeed Sunil who stood at the threshold of Kit's apartment; in Nollendorfplatz, in Berlin, in Germany; and all of a sudden, everything came into achingly bright focus.

"You ah, didn't have too much trouble getting here, did you?" Kit opened the door, and gestured Sunil inside.

"No. Not at all." Sunil swept past him, and into the apartment.

Kit waited for a moment, his hand still resting on the door knob. He allowed himself a small smile before following Sunil in, and closing the door behind the two of them.

* * *

"I think I'm beginning to understand why you like this place."

Sunil and Kit were walking through the Großer Tiergarten. Kit had finally acquiesced to Sunil’s requests, and earlier that day had introduced him to where he had been working, and to Dr. Hirschfeld. Since then, the shadows had grown long along the promenade and, one by one, the lights of the city began to illuminate in the distance.

"Is that so?"

The days were getting shorter and shorter. The cold had begun to weave its way into the evening, and a light mist clung to the pavement and fallen leaves. Sunil shuffled through a pile of leaves. The orange glow of the streetlights cast spidery shapes across his face through the barren branches of the trees that lined the path. He nodded, and turned around, walking backwards so he could look at Kit directly. "Yes. I think so."

"You care to elaborate?"

In the few weeks Sunil had spent in Berlin, so far, the city had made more than a bit of an impression on him. For all of its reputation, the city was beautiful. And for all its beauty, the city was vicious. It reminded him of a viper in how its scales glittered in much the same way its fangs did. Berlin was a place that lived outside of the reality that the rest of the world shared-- and outside the norms that the rest of the world shared.

"You seem more comfortable here." Sunil had stopped walking, and carefully scanned Kit's face.

Kit stopped in his tracks a few feet away from Sunil, and stood, his hands in his pockets. Kit met Sunil's gaze for a split second, then looked away. By now, Sunil could read the brief glance and the tension in Kit's shoulders, but he let the statement stand nonetheless.

Kit took a deep breath. "I am."

Sunil studied Kit. There was something in the lines of his face that Sunil hadn't seen for a while. At least, not since he first saw Kit, ready to flee from his doorstep in London so many months ago.

"Is that… a problem?" Kit's already quiet rasp went even softer. He shifted back a little, and as he did, Sunil suddenly realized how fragile the conversation had become.

Sunil took a tentative step forward. "No. I don't think it is."

This time it was Kit who scrutinized Sunil, who was not at all prepared for the sudden ferocity of his gaze. At times, Kit reminded him of a falcon-- all sharp focus, sharp edges, and ready to spring into flight at any moment.

"Do you really mean that?" From the shape of Kit's words, it became painfully obvious that the conversation had become about something else entirely. It was about something that shimmered between them like a gossamer thread: delicate, and impossibly, painfully easy to tear.

How long had there been something there, in the space between the two of them?

"Of course I do."

They stood, for a moment. For a moment, Sunil felt something raw and new take root within his chest.

Kit allowed Sunil to close the distance in between the two of them.

* * *

  
After Sunil left for London, Kit came back to an apartment that now somehow felt even smaller and colder than before. A life that was somehow more painful than it had ever been before.

Loneliness was a solace, he told himself.

Loneliness was peace, he told himself.

Loneliness was safety, he told himself.

Kit left the lights off and stumbled to the bedroom-- suddenly exhausted, suddenly feeling years older, and suddenly realizing the extent of his solitude.

There was a carefully folded scarf on his bed. Kit stroked the fabric-- surprised, and in a way, relieved. There was a note on top of it, written in a familiar, neat hand: "You're welcome in London at any time."

There was something intimate in the act of putting on a scarf that somebody else had been wearing just a short while before-- the faint scent of another person that lingered in the fibers was a comfort that he could not find it within himself to deny.

Instead, he looped the scarf around his neck, and held the fabric gently to his ruined cheek.


End file.
